


Congratulations - You Were All Alone

by Neelh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Autistic Character, Boggarts, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, meltdowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:59:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neelh/pseuds/Neelh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire finds a boggart in the cupboard.</p><p>Some things can't become humorous by any stretch of the imagination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Congratulations - You Were All Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This may be uncomfortable to read for some people.
> 
> Title from Amsterdam by Imagine Dragons.
> 
> Fill for a tumblr prompt by pyladesslightlytipsy/Azanerth.

He was shaking.

 

He was eighteen fucking years old, for crying out loud.

 

Grantaire had been alone in the house, but now he was being cornered by his friends. They were laughing at him, curled up pathetically in the corner of the spare room, sobbing helplessly.

 

"You're useless," Feuilly sneered. "You can't paint to save your life, and you want to be an artist. You can't draw any of us, not even Enjolras."

 

Bahorel took over. "You're so weak. Not even your magic works properly. Remember when we were in Dumbledore's Army? You couldn't create a Patronus, even though you tried to for a week after everyone else. Wait, no, you fucking didn't. You cried like a baby because you finally realised how pathetic you are."

 

"The unluckiest moment of my life was when I met you," scowled Bossuet. "I'm not even sure why you stay with us. You've always known that you're   unwanted. Why would it be any different with us?"

 

Joly looked down on him, seeming eager to mock but hesitant to go any closer to him. "You drink so much, I'm shocked you're not dead yet." A pause. "Disappointed, too."

 

The group burst into raucous laughter. Grantaire began to curl in on himself even more, desperate to disappear.

 

"I didn't know it was possible for someone to be such an asshole until I met you," Jehan mused. "Even when you're high you hurt people. You should try taking too much one day and put us all out of our misery."

 

Courfeyrac grinned at that; a twisted mockery of his usual welcoming smile. "I'd help with that. I thought I could make friends with anyone, but you're always too busy crying in your room about how useless you are to do anything. One time I walked in on you, and you'd _pissed_ yourself. How fucking lazy are you?"

 

"Very," Éponine laughed as she stepped forward. "I once walked in on him _sober_ , but only because he drank all the booze he keeps around the bed. Fucking alcoholics, can't do shit."

 

Slipping her hand into Éponine's back pocket, Cosette joined the forefront of the gang. "At least she can pine after someone and not have it consume her enough to prevent her from being her own person. You need _him_ to feign being a human. You can't even love someone properly."

 

"They're right, you know," Combeferre interjected, looking over their shoulders. He leaned against the wall and smirked at the man rocking backwards and forwards, tears streaming down his face.

 

"I know," he gasped between sobs. "I know I know I know _I know please make it stop please_!"

 

"Not until we all get our say," the caramel-haired man replied. "We believe in equality here."

 

"Grantaire doesn't believe in anything."

 

That voice.

 

Enjolras pushed them all backwards, but the rest of his friends still stayed around him, giving Grantaire no escape, even if he could move.

 

"You say you believe in me, but we all know how you really feel. It's not even _love_ , even though you fooled yourself into thinking that. You're such an animal that the most you can feel in that vein is lust. You want me to fuck you - you'd do anything for it! You would grovel just for me to have my way with you and leave you untouched and aching. You'd _enjoy_ it."

 

"I know, I know I would, _make it stop_!" Grantaire screamed. His voice was hoarse and broken, his eyes red and his face soaking wet.

 

"You're so codependent," Enjolras hissed. "You desperately seek our approval, but you always fuck it up. _You're_ fucked up. Say it, Capital R!"

 

"I-I"

 

"Say it!"

 

"I'm fucked up!"

 

He vomited over the floor.

 

"Disgusting." The blonde tilted his head upwards, wrinkling his nose but still smirking widely. "What do you feel towards me?"

 

"Lust," he sobbed rakishly. "I can't love."

 

"You are incapable of it, aren't you?" he chuckled. It was the laugh that he used when Courfeyrac made a particularly funny joke or when Jehan composed a limerick in five minutes. It was even coupled with the creases in his eyes and the close-lipped smile that came before and after. "Just as you're incapable of everything."

 

Enjolras came closer, lifting Grantaire up by the neck and _no-one said that boggarts could interact with you physically why was this happening this shouldn't happen he didn't want to be touched not like this boggarts weren't supposed to start to strangle you_ -

 

"Riddikulus!" someone, a new person, shrieked.

 

The hand holding Grantaire's throat was suddenly gone and in it's place was a sound.

 

Grantaire laughing.

 

But he couldn't be; he was gasping for breath and panicking and hearing himself mock Enjolras but he would _never_.

 

"You can't even hope to succeed. Nobody actually wants a part in your childish revolution. _The world will never change_ , and you know that. Stop fooling yourself into believing otherwise."

 

"Riddikulus!" the person repeated, though their voice was quavering and quiet, still managing to carry the firm air of Enjolras that not even Grantaire's worst fears could emulate.

 

The voice carried on, but in the tone of Courfeyrac. Enjolras laughed at the evident sight of one of the strongest believers in changing the world speaking cynically, and in silence sent it back to the cupboard it had first emerged from.

 

"Grantaire?" Enjolras finally said, kneeling down beside him hesitantly.

 

"Go away, leave me alone, you hate me," the man whispered in return, close to tears again. He repeated the words like a particularly difficult spell.

 

Ignoring all of his years of experience with meltdowns like Grantaire was having right now, Enjolras hugged his friend tightly. The black-haired man stiffened, closing his eyes tightly and letting out a high-pitched noise. Rocking backwards and forwards, Enjolras dotted kisses in the man's hair.

 

"You're okay," he murmured. "You're so brilliant, so good, so smart, so loving, no-one can compare to you, Grantaire."

 

"Liar!" screamed Grantaire, his voice breaking. He couldn't say anything else, but took desperate, gasping breaths.

 

Enjolras waited the entire time, and when Grantaire began to drift asleep he felt himself being picked up and carried to a bed. The arms were strong and warm and Grantaire finally felt safe.


End file.
